Crossed
by EdgyAuthor
Summary: Sam tries to fulfill his duties as the Devil's bounty hunter, but it looks like someone else is after escaped souls as well, and sending them back to hell doesn't seem to be a part of her plans.
1. Chapter 1

As Sam grudgingly learned to accept to be a norm in his life, he was a bounty hunter, doomed to track down escaped souls and send them back to hell. He just wished that those damned souls would be a little more considerate. Even though the Devil didn't believe in vacation time, Ted, his boss from the Work Bench, did. All right, so maybe he was _forced _to give his workers vacation time, but that still didn't change the fact that this was Sam's day off. His life might not fully belong to him anymore, but he still wanted to enjoy it a little bit, and he thought that this Tuesday would finally be the day he could.

He should have known that he'd be wrong.

"You're so going to hell for that," Sam spat as he lifted himself up from the pavement. The soul -- some gangly woman with hair unruly enough to give even Medusa a scare -- had blasted him down with thick streams of water shooting from her palms. He coughed up some of the salty liquid. At least now he knew why sinks, showers, toilets, and the like were bursting water at him today upon touch; a water bottle had even exploded in his hands!

_Damn it, _he thought as he looked around the lot for the vessel he needed to finally capture this soul. He had lost the rubber ducky!

The soul smirked and raised her palms at him again.

Sam dodged, colliding into a group of trash cans and barely missing the onslaught of water coming at him. He coughed up some more water still in his lungs, then grew elated when he saw the rubber ducky lying carelessly in a puddle. He grabbed it and lurched up to face the soul once again. Now if only he could figure out exactly how to capture it with this thing….

Another lunged forward and kicked him hard in the face.

Sam cursed, collapsing back against the trash cans. For the briefest moment, he actually saw stars dancing before his eyes, but that was silly; it was only mid-afternoon, after all. He then looked up and blanked for an even longer moment. A _girl?_ It was some girl who had kicked him? Okay, so the soul he was fighting also happened to be a girl herself, but this new person definitely still belonged to the living. What was she doing, facing the soul like this? He had to stop her before she did something even more stupid….

Sam limped up to his feet and tugged her back. "Hey --"

The girl elbowed him in the stomach, and he crumpled easily. Holy --

"Whoa." Sam blinked to convince himself that what he was seeing wasn't the result of some sunlight glaring in his eyes. The girl, her arms swept out wide, glowed with a faint white aura seeming to intensify with each passing second. The soul stood transfixed before her, the deathly glower she had been giving Sam previously melting into one of awe. The girl gently grasped her shoulders, causing her aura to spread and engulf the soul with an unearthly connection. Then, with a flick of the head, the girl flashed a pair of dark, scowling eyes in Sam's direction. The two began to vanish.

"No!" Sam wrenched himself upward and grabbed for the girl to keep them from disappearing. The aura, blindingly bright now, lashed at him, and he staggered back. By the time he regained his balance, the two were already gone. "Damn it!"

Something sizzled in his hand. He lifted it up and realized that he was still gripping the rubber ducky. It smoldered, then exploded. He yelped, extinguishing the sparks licking his hand off on his soaked jeans. What the hell…?

The confusion briefly kept him from realizing that his other hand was holding yet another item -- fortunately for him, a non-explodey one. He unfolded his fingers and saw a broken silver chain. He must have accidentally ripped off the girl's necklace when he went to grab her. The pendant slipped from the chain and splashed into one of the small puddles. He bent down to pick it up, shock enveloping him when he saw exactly what that pendant was -- a Christian cross.


	2. Chapter 2

His clothing rumpled yet relatively dry, his hair in similar disarray, Sam downed a long gulp of beer before swinging it back down onto the bar countertop. He fingered the cross pendant still cradled in his left hand. Who was that girl, and what did she want with that soul? What _had _she done with that soul? He had his theories about her true identity, if not her motives, but not even his slightly buzzed state helped to make it seem plausible. Sure, he'd had his share of supernatural weirdness lately to make him believe almost anything at this point, but he still wrote off his theory as nonsense. Not unless all that stuff about angels having wings was bull, which he guessed was possible. He'd expected the Devil to be a bit more horny -- er, with horns -- than he actually was, so maybe…

"You disappoint me, Sammy."

Sam slid a tired gaze over to the suited man suddenly in the seat beside him. "Speak of the devil." He took an even longer sip.

"Why are you busy killing brain cells when there's still a soul out there for you to capture?" The Devil's grimace deepened. "It's not easy acquiring first-borns nowadays, you know. If you don't do this --"

"Listen, Lucy --" Sam blinked. He'd meant to spat _Lucifer_ at him, but it had somehow shortened itself on its way out his mouth. Oh well. "Look, I tried, okay? It's not my fault that the vessel exploded on me."

The Devil stiffened. "It exploded?"

"Yeah, right after some girl showed up and took off with the soul." Sam showed him the cross as proof. "I accidentally tore this off her neck before she went all glowy."

The Devil snatched the cross pendant from his hand, making Sam flinch. He watched him with a raised eyebrow. "You can touch that?"

The Devil met his gaze dead-on with growing displeasure. "I'm the Devil, Sam, not a vampire."

"Oh, right." Sam hesitated. "So does that necklace mean something? Who was that girl?"

The Devil pocketed the pendant and straightened with firmer composure although he still looked a bit flustered. "She's not an angel, if that's what you're thinking."

"I -- okay, I did for a second, but --"

The Devil easily hushed him with his deepening glare. "She is none of your concern. That soul is a lost cause now, so you might as well relax until another one escapes."

"But --" Sam blinked. The Devil was already gone.

"Damn devil." Sam finished his drink.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, Sam, you thirsty?"

Sam glanced tiredly at Sock as he drove them to the Work Bench. His friend dangled a water bottle at him, his expression impish. Turning his attention back to the road, Sam remarked, "Sorry. Water's not exploding at me anymore."

Sock frowned his disappointment. "Dude! Are you telling me that you captured the soul without me? Lame."

Sam gritted his teeth. "I didn't capture the soul without you. I didn't capture it at all."

Sock's frown deepened, but with confusion this time. "If you didn't capture the soul…"

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"Fine," Sock huffed, looking out the passenger's side window. He drummed his fingers for a few moments before edging the water bottle in Sam's direction and poking him in the arm. He repeated this several times.

"Sock," Sam said, "what are you doing?"

Sock finally tore the water bottle away and slumped in his seat. "I thought it would explode."

Sam shook his head. Typical Sock.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam finally told Sock about the mystery girl who had taken the soul and how -- yet again -- the Devil was being vague with him about it. Sock pondered this as Sam parked, then, as they began heading toward the Work Bench, said, "Maybe the Devil has Alzheimer's."

How did Sock think of these things? Narrowing his gaze, Sam remarked flatly, "No, he doesn't."

"You don't know that!" Sock persisted. "The Devil _is_ pretty old. Maybe he's just too embarrassed to admit he has a memory problem."

"He's the _Devil_." Sam hesitated. "Then again, it might explain why the souls can escape from him so easily…"

Sock grinned as they entered the Work Bench. He was about to say more when Ben approached them, dressed identically in the obligatory blue apron, cutting him off. "Hey, Sam, there's a girl asking for you."

Sock turned to Sam looking almost as offended as when he thought Sam had caught the soul without him. "You hooked up with someone and didn't tell us? And since when have you stopped drooling over Andi?" Sock shook his head. "The Devil's Alzheimer's must be contagious."

"I'm not over Andi!" Controlling his frustration, Sam asked Ben, "What girl is asking for me?" A small part of him feared that it might be one of the Devil's horned minions; he had a bad habit of interfering with his work like that.

"She's over --" Ben began, but frowned as soon as he glanced over his shoulder. "Huh. She was just right there…"

Sam cried out, buckling to his knees, as someone twisted his arm behind his back and nearly tore it from its socket. "I want my necklace back," a feminine voice spat, and Sam groaned. So it was _that_ girl. Terrific.

"Hey, girlie," Sock threatened, stepping forward, but one flash of her glare jolted him back. Ben cowered slightly as well.

"I don't have it," Sam told her, cringing despite his resolve not to. Her grip was crazy strong.

The girl shoved him to the floor, stood with an angry flip of her dark hair, and stomped out of the store. Nearby customers gawked at her, but she discarded any acknowledgment of their stares, so they proceeded to turn their gazes to Sam. He ignored them as well, although not as successfully, and rubbed his bruised arm. That crazy, little --

"Nothing to see here!" Sock proclaimed, flicking his hands at the gawkers. "Haven't any of you ever seen a psycho ex-girlfriend before? Sheesh."

"Sam…," Ben began hesitantly, but never got to finish. Sam was already running out of the Work Bench and after the girl, despite his nagging intuition not to. He had to find out who she was -- _what _she was, probably -- before she escaped again.

Sam stumbled head-first into a cavernous dark hole. He screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam moaned, achingly standing up. Grimy water engulfed him below the knees. He leaned back against the cold, slimy wall, but even that mere feat pained him. Squinting, he peered around his murky surroundings and only saw blocks of stone circling around him. Where was he?

"Uh-oh. Little Sammy fell down the well. Should I go get Lassie?"

Sam glared up at the Devil. It was almost impossible to see much but his shadowy figure peering over the edge, but Sam knew without a doubt that he was grinning. "Very funny. Now get me out of here!"

"Now why should I do that?" The Devil's voice took on a harder edge.

"Uh, because you own my soul! I can't really capture escaped souls when I'm stuck down a freakin' well."

The sky above darkened then, and Sam _really _couldn't see the Devil now. Uh-oh.

"You're right, I _do _own your soul," he said in a voice that killed his previous grin. "Because of that, I can have you do whatever I want -- _including_ having you rot the rest of your days away in this well."

Sam gulped. "But why? What good would that do?"

"None, probably. Don't you know me at all?"

Groaning, Sam smacked his head back against the wall. A headache surged through his brain, but that was the least of his worries. "Is this because of that girl?"

"What girl are we talking about?" the Devil questioned. "I distinctly remember telling you that she was none of your concern, so you obviously wouldn't disregard that."

Sam frowned. "You don't have to mock me."

"No, I guess I don't," the Devil agreed.

Grumbling, Sam began to pace -- then slipped, falling into the grimy water. He lurched up and wiped the water dripping off his face with his sleeve, but even that was soaked. "_She_ confronted _me_, okay? She said she wanted her necklace back."

"Yes, but then you went after her. Not smart, Sammy."

"Well, maybe if you'd just tell me what the heck is going on, then maybe I'd know why."

"The fact that I don't want you to should be more than enough reason." The Devil left.

"Hey, wait!" Sam called after him, but he got no response -- just a box thrown down to him, coming directly at his head. He shielded himself with his arms, but the box still made enough impact to knock him down on his back. It took a few moments of grimacing for him to realize that he hadn't fallen in the well, but across the pavement of the Work Bench parking lot.

Then, sitting up, Sam noticed it was nighttime.

"Great," he grumbled, pulling the box into his lap. Ted probably thought that he ditched work again and would be penalized for it -- and it wasn't even to capture some hellish soul! Finally standing, Sam trudged over to his car, not bothering to take a peek at the vessel. He could do it in the morning.

Sam froze, nearly dropping the box in shock and anger as he approached his parking space. Where the hell was his car?

Headlights showered over him, and Sam yelped, jumping back, as his own car barreled toward him. He couldn't believe that it was possessed again…

The car stopped barely inches from him, and a girl's head leaned out from the driver's side window. _The _girl's.

Sam blinked. "What are you --"

"Get in," she cut off, no sympathy in her gaze. Her head disappeared back in the car.

"Great," Sam grumbled again, then climbed into the passenger's side. This day just seemed to be getting better and better.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam drummed his fingers on top of the vessel box, sliding an uncomfortable gaze the girl's way. She had made the sign of the cross over her chest as soon as he climbed into the car. She turned the key in the ignition, then snapped her dark eyes his way, making him jump. He quickly looked straight ahead, but knowing that she was mere inches from him kept him tense. If looks could kill, then hers would have definitely sent him six feet under by now.

"Seatbelt."

"Huh?" Sam dared a glance back at her.

Her lips curled into a sneer. Shaking her head, she muttered, "It's just like a minion of the Devil to be brain dead."

"Hey, I am _not_ the Devil's minion, just his bounty hunter." His frown deepened as he registered the rest of her comment. "And I'm not brain dead!"

"Whatever." Her eyes narrowed once again in that poisonous way of theirs. "Just buckle your seatbelt so I don't have to do it for you."

"Fine. Sheesh." Sam did as she demanded, awkwardly balancing the vessel box as he did so.

Finally starting the car, the girl sped off, and Sam jerked back in his seat. For a girl completely mommish when it came to seatbelt etiquette, she sure wasn't shy when it came to pushing the speed limit. One hand gripped the dashboard to keep himself from smashing into it, the other clutching the box so the vessel wouldn't plop out from it and explode or something. (He never knew what those things would do, seeing as they came straight from freakin' _hell._)

The girl was too busy concentrating on the road, so Sam snuck another glance at her. She was sort of pretty, he guessed, in that bitchy prom queen sort of way. Not that the black sweats she wore gave any indication to that. Or her apparent hobby of snatching escaped souls and taking his life to a whole other level of hellish. "So…"

"That's a vessel, isn't it?" She looked contemptuously over at the box.

Sam hugged the box closer to himself, suddenly protective of it. "Why do you care?"

Her lips pursed, unresponsive.

"Fine, then. How about names? I'm Sam." _But you probably already knew that, seeing how you're stalking me and all…_

Her lips pursed more tightly, making her look freakishly duckish. She finally relented, "Cindy."

Sam snickered. He knew he shouldn't have, but he couldn't help it. "Seriously?"

Cindy glowered. "You find that amusing, Devil boy?"

Sam cleared his throat. "No, no. Not at all."

"Good," she said, although she didn't look convinced.

Sam fidgeted. "So, um, Cindy…"

"I'm taking the vessel," she remarked, both her voice and expression lacking emotion.

She sure had a penchant for cutting people off, didn't she? "I don't think that's a good idea…"

"Ooh, what are you going to do, sic your boss on me? I'm so scared."

"Well, he _is _the Devil," Sam countered, but doubt still crept into his words. Her steely confidence made him nervous. Whatever she was keeping from him, the Devil was just as adamant at doing so as well. What exactly was this Cindy girl?

"Look," she said, finally slowing the car to a more tolerable pace. She glanced at him in a less deadly way. "You're human, despite your unfortunate occupation, so surely you'll listen to reason."

Sam waited silently for whatever reasony thing she had to share with him.

"Those souls you're always hunting…they don't deserve to go where you're sending them."

Sam gave into laughter, one fueled by stress and disbelief. "You've got to be joking. You do know those souls are murderers and criminals, don't you?"

Her expression hardened even more. Was that even possible? "I don't care what kinds of poor choices they made during their lives, they still don't deserve to go to hell."

"_Poor choices_. You sure are a queen of euphemisms."

"Mock me if you want. You'll see I'm right in the end."

Sam hesitated, not exactly sure what she meant, his thoughts retreating to the memories of his first encounter with Cindy, what she had done with the soul. That aura that had formed around her had seemed so angelic, even if she wasn't an angel. "Wait. If you don't think those souls should go to hell, then does that mean…do you send those souls to heaven?"

Cindy simply smirked.

Damn. And here he thought he pretty much knew what to expect with this whole bounty hunter gig.

No. This wasn't possible. He didn't _want_ it to be possible. The only peace he got from working for the Devil was knowing that he put evil souls back where they belonged. But if they could somehow be redeemed…

Breaking through his bafflement, Sam asked her with a wary awe, "Seriously, is that what you do? Save souls? Because if it is..."

The car screeched to a stop in some desolate neighborhood as Cindy slammed her foot on the brake. Sam fell hard against the dashboard, losing his grip on the box. Cindy snatched it and sprinted out of the car.

"Hey! Stop!" Sam lurched after her, but jerked back in his seat, restrained by the strap coiled firmly around him. Damn seatbelt! Fumbling, he finally unbuckled it, then staggered out of the car, but the girl was no longer in sight. He cursed, stamping his feet as his arms swung down in anguish. Maybe, if he was lucky, the Devil would just trap him in a well again and give him another scolding. But when was he ever lucky?

Huffing, Sam collapsed into the driver's seat. His eyes drifted over to the empty passenger's seat, only to discover that it wasn't quite so empty after all. The vessel box sat beside him, free from Cindy's clutches -- wherever she was. For once he was grateful for that box's freaky magic and its uncanny way of tracking him. Maybe his luck wasn't so bad after all.

Sam looked around one last time to make sure that Cindy wasn't lurking, then drove off, not wanting to risk another run-in with her. His mind was reeling so much from everything that had just occurred that he almost didn't see the streetlight ahead of him switching to red. He broke to a jerky stop. The light seemed to take an eternity to change, so he decided to lift open the box's lid and make sure that the vessel was actually inside, that Cindy didn't still have it after all. A faint smoke billowed out, and he waved it away so he could peer more closely at the vessel within. He groaned. "You've got to be kidding me…"


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, Sam was surprised that the Devil still hadn't visited him to get on his case about the Cindy thing. He was even more surprised, however, to walk into the Work Bench and discover that he still had a job. Maybe, because he'd already ditched so much, Ted couldn't bother to be angry about it anymore. Which made sense, seeing as Ted would have to sell his soul to ever hire a truly competent worker.

_Maybe _that's_ why I'm not fired_, Sam thought. _Ted knows about my connection to the Devil and wants to sell his soul so the workers at the Work Bench actually work…._

"So this Cindy girl is trying to keep you from sending escaped souls back to hell?" Ben asked after Sam finished telling him and Sock about the previous night. "How…merciful."

"That's one word for it," Sam said as the three of them sluggishly priced and stocked new inventory.

"I have another word for it," Sock said, tossing Sam more items to stock. "Crazy. Crazy and stupid and psycho."

"That's three words," Ben corrected.

Sock rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"I don't know," Sam said. "She kept going on how even evil souls were innocent once. Maybe wherever she takes them is…better."

"Better schmeter," Sock said. "Evil souls go to an evil place -- end of story."

"Doesn't everyone deserve redemption?" Ben countered.

Sock didn't hesitate. "Hmm, let me think -- no."

"But God is supposed to be all-forgiving," Ben said. "So, maybe…"

"Cindy's doing God's work?" Sam finished.

"Well," Ben said, "yeah."

Sock thought this over. "So she's like Sam, except with the big G for a boss and less girly."

"Hey!" Sam snapped.

Sock shrugged.

Sam wanted to argue, but found himself hesitating. What if Cindy _was_ like him -- a reaper, but for the side of good? Sam always thought that he was doing a good thing by capturing those souls, even if it was for the Devil, but if there was a way for them to be redeemed…

Sock's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "I'm bored. So where's that vessel Cinderella tried to steal?"

Sighing, Sam dug into his pocket and pulled it out.

"Is that…," Ben began.

"A Rubik's cube," Sam finished, glaring down at the vessel. Its multicolored tiles shimmered under the harsh lights of the store.

"Awesome!" Sock snatched the Rubik's cube from Sam and started fiddling with it.

"How are you supposed to capture a soul with that?" Ben asked.

"I have no idea," Sam said. "But it's not like I know where to look for the soul to even capture it…." He snapped a glare at Sock. "Sock, stop messing with the --"

With one last twist, Sock solved the Rubik's cube, and blasts of multicolored light shot from all sides. The energy shook around them, sending them to their knees and causing the Rubik's cube to fall from Sock's hands. Sam blindly felt around for the vessel, snatched it up, then quickly rotated one of the rows, unsolving it. He slumped back, blinking away the black spots in his eyes, and snapped, "Since when do you know how to solve these things?"

"Since when do I _don't_?" Sock countered.

"Whatever," Sam said, standing. Ben and Sock followed suit. "We know how the vessel works now, so we just need to find the soul."

"And find out who the soul is in the first place," Ben pointed out.

Sam groaned. For once, he actually wished that the Devil would show up so he could give him even the smallest of clues to track down the soul -- whoever it was.

"Break time!" Sock exclaimed, heading for the TVs. Sam and Ben followed.

They switched one of the TVs to the news, waiting for something murdery or otherwise criminal to pop up. Unfortunately, the news anchors were too busy talking about a boxful of young Chihuahuas found abandoned in some alley.

"Maybe the latest soul likes to steal puppies and then ditch em'," Sock said. "That's sort of evilish, right?"

Ben shrugged. "Not really hell-worthy, though."

"Of course it is!" Sock countered. "Right, Sam?"

"I don't know," he grumbled. "The Devil's never had me go after puppy-ditchers before."

"Not _yet_," Sock corrected. "That's it. Our escaped soul is a puppy-ditcher. I'm a genius!"

Sam and Ben shook their heads.

"Hey, guys."

All three of them jerked around, facing Andi. She gave them an uneasy smile. "Whoa, there. Didn't mean to scare you guys."

"You didn't, uh…" Sam stumbled on his words. He caught sight of the brochure clasped in her hands. "What's that?"

"Oh, yeah." Andi handed it to him. "Some guy in a suit told me to give this to you. He said it was…urgent."

Sam blinked. The brochure was for a fitness center.

"Gain a few pounds or something?" Andi smirked.

"Uh…"

"Can you blame him for wanting to work out?" Sock slung an arm around Sam's shoulders, the other gesturing proudly at his own physique. "It can't be easy working around perfection like this all day."

Andi's smirk grew as she bit back a laugh. "Oh, yeah."

"We're _all_ going to work out," Ben said, sliding a glance at Sock. "Even Mr. Perfect here."

"See?" Sock grinned. "Even Ben thinks my body's perfect."

Ben rolled his eyes.

"Okay, then." Andi watched them curiously for a second more before walking away.

Ben looked over at the brochure in Sam's hands. "So you think that's where the soul is?"

Sam opened up the brochure, frowned, then showed them the post-it fastened there. It said: _This is where the soul is._

"Ouch," Sock said. "The Devil's sure losing confidence in your reapering."

Sam shrugged. "I think he's just on edge because of the Cindy thing. She _has_ already stolen one of his souls, remember?"

"Yeah, well, she won't be getting this one." Sock paused. "Will we have to where spandex for this?"

"I think sweats will do," Ben said.

Sock paused again, then said, "I'm totally going to where spandex."

Sam shook his head. Things could only go downhill from here.


	7. Chapter 7

"Oh, yeah," Sock said, stretching -- luckily, in sweats, not spandex like he'd announced back at the Work Bench. "I can feel the burn."

"What burn?" Ben countered, and Sam had to agree. So far, all they'd done was walk into the fitness center, and that wasn't exactly burn-making.

"The burn," Sock answered, as if that explained everything. "Sheesh, Ben, get with it."

"Come on, guys," Sam said, pushing forward. His grip tightened on the bag slung over his shoulder. "Let's just worry about finding the soul."

"Right. The soul." Sock nodded as he and Ben followed Sam. "He is so going to burn."

"Like how you burned?" Ben quipped.

"No, Ben, the other kind of burn. Gosh, you're really not with it."

They soon stopped alongside the snack bar when they saw how packed the fitness center was -- there was barely a treadmill or dumbbell not in use. Sam had been hoping that, being a smaller establishment, that it wouldn't be so busy, but now…

"Great," Sam muttered. "How are we ever going to figure out who the soul is now?"

He never got an answer, for the perky young blond who worked at the snack bar thrust out a pair of cups their way, her smile as bright as her hair. "Hi! Would you guys like to try a free sample of our brand new smoothies?"

"No, thanks," Sam said. Sock simply grimaced his response. Ben, however, took a cup and started to drink from it as they weaved once again around the people working out around them.

"We can watch for the soul over there," Sock said, gesturing toward the treadmills along the back wall.

It actually did look like a good spot to watch out for the soul at, allowing them to view the fitness center at all angles, but still Sam said, "Sock, we can't. All the treadmills are taken."

"So?" Sock said, walking over there anyway. He leaned against one of the treadmills. "Impressive."

Catching the attention of the woman jogging on it, she slowed and pulled out her iPod's earphones. "What's impressive?"

Sock smirked. "You."

She grinned, bashfully so. She fiddled with her tank top strap. "You think so?"

"Oh, yeah. Those are some grade-A pit stains."

"Wh--what?"

"How do you do it?" Sock pressed closer, lifting his arm so she could get a good view of his armpit. "No matter how much I work out, I can never seem to get as sweaty as I want to. What's your secret?"

Appalled, the girl turned off the treadmill, grabbed her things, and left.

Sam and Ben shook their heads as they finally joined him.

"What?" Sock said, getting onto the treadmill himself, although he did no treading. "She did have impressive pit stains."

"Whatever." Sam gazed around the fitness center. "You guys have any idea who the soul could be?"

Ben pondered. "Maybe it's one of those guys that likes to hit on women as they're yogaing. Axes them when they're alone because he's resentful about being rejected in life."

"Eh," Sock said. "I think the soul has a thing against health nuts and…I don't know…poisons them with smoothies or something."

Ben froze, spitting his latest gulp back into the cup. "Oh my god I'm poisoned!"

"We don't know that the soul poisoned the smoothies," Sam said, but grew wary as he stared back over at the perky blond at the snack bar. She seemed just a bit too eager for people to try those free samples of hers.

Then he saw her hand one to the latest person to enter the fitness center -- a man whose suit made him too overdressed to even consider working out.

Sam walked over to the Devil. Whatever he wanted, he doubted it involved anything that might help him track down the escaped soul.

The Devil faced him, grimacing as he took a sip of the smoothie. "Oh, hey, Sammy. Can you believe people drink this stuff? I swear it tastes like feet. If people want a killer body, then they should just shell out the money for a trainer. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, sure," Sam said. "What are you doing here?"

The Devil set the cup aside and pulled out a necklace from his pocket. "Just wanted to give you this."

Sam stared at it, unsure of what to say. It was the same cross necklace he'd snatched from Cindy when he first met her. "Uh…why?"

The Devil shrugged. "Thought you might want to give it back to Cindy if you ever ran into her again."

"I thought you wanted me to avoid her," Sam said, still not taking the necklace.

"Did I?" The Devil shrugged again. "Don't worry about it."

Sam blinked. "Again…why?"

The Devil dangled the necklace in front of Sam's face. "Just take it already, will you? I don't have time to stand around talking to you all day."

Finally, Sam did. He briefly stared down at the cross pendant before flicking his gaze back up. "But…"

The Devil was gone.

"Of course," he muttered, walking back over to Sock and Ben. Maybe Sock was right the other day about the Devil having Alzheimer's; it sure would explain his more peculiar behavior lately. Although, with the things he knew -- and didn't know -- about Cindy, Sam could understand why. Sort of.

"What was that all about?" Ben asked once Sam returned.

"Oh, yeah. I saw the Devil, so I --"

"Wait. The Devil's here?" Sock craned his head, in search of him.

"_Was_ here," Sam corrected.

Sock frowned. "He's gone now? Lame. I so wanted to ask him for his autograph."

"His autograph?" Sam echoed blankly.

"Yeah! I bet I could get a pretty penny for it from some Satanist…."

Ignoring Sock's comment, Ben asked Sam, "So did the Devil tell you anything about the soul?"

"No," Sam said, pocketing Cindy's necklace. "He just went on about how the smoothies taste like feet and --" Sam paused as he remembered another seemingly unimportant part of their conversation. "He mentioned how people should hire trainers for a killer body."

"So?" Sock asked.

"So maybe the soul is a trainer who kills you before you can get a killer body," Sam answered.

Ben tsked. "Talk about dying to be thin."

"So what are we waiting for?" Sock hopped off the treadmill. "Let's vesselfy this soul already."

"We still don't know for sure if a trainer's the soul, though," Sam said.

"Or which trainer it'd be," Ben added.

Sock slumped back against the treadmill and grumbled.

"So I guess we should start asking around about new trainers in this place. Right, Sam?"

Sam didn't answer. He was too busy gazing over at the entrance again. A girl in fitting black sweats, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, had just walked in. Cindy.

"Sam?"

Sock flicked the back of his head. "Earth to Sammy. You still in there?"

"You guys can ask around," Sam finally said, pulling out the Rubik's cube from his bag. He strode over to Cindy. "I'm going to follow another lead."


	8. Chapter 8

Just as Sam darted around the corner Cindy had disappeared around, he found himself blocked by a deluge of women carrying yoga mats. He jumped out of their way, craning his head to keep Cindy in his sights, only to have one of the few males in the yoga class step out and hit him with the door. "Ow," he muttered, staggering, the Rubik's cube falling from his hands.

Sam muttered again, this time a word more vulgar than "ow," and dropped to his knees in search of the Rubik's cube. Most moved out of his way to keep from stepping on him, but that didn't keep them from kicking the Rubik's cube far away from him, unaware of it. Sam crawled through the sea of legs to reach it….

Cindy snatched the Rubik's cube up first, scrambled it, then plopped it back down on Sam's head.

"No," Sam groaned, standing with the Rubik's cube in hand. Now how was he supposed to solve it in order to catch the soul?

Smirking triumphantly, Cindy spun away from him and headed toward the still-emptying yoga class.

Sam ran after her, only to get smacked by the door again as she snapped it shut behind herself. He rubbed his face, muffling a curse. Stupid door.

Holding back more grimaces, Sam entered the yoga room.

The room was practically empty now, and not as permeated with the smell of sweat as other areas of the fitness center. The yoga trainer -- some young bald guy with lean muscles to spare -- was chatting it up with a slender redhead. Cindy stalked toward them, but Sam managed to sprint past her and nearly collided into the talking duo. The redhead looked upset while the trainer, gazing at Sam cagily, said, "Can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam said as he fiddled with the Rubik's cube, stealing glances at Cindy. She was still walking toward them, but didn't seem to be in any rush. "I want to sign up for your yoga class so I can do some…yogaing."

"Sorry, kid. All the spots are already taken. There have been a few drop-outs lately, though, so check back; there might end up being another opening for you."

_Drop-outs, huh? _Sam was even more convinced that this trainer was the soul; people didn't really have to keep taking a yoga class once they were dead, after all.

"So where were we?" the trainer asked, fixing his attention back on the redhead.

The redhead edged back, her gaze flicking over to Sam's Rubik's cube. "Actually, I have to --"

Cindy swept her arm out, the faint white aura she'd developed when Sam first met her barely having the chance to manifest, for the redhead snatched her and thrust her against Sam. They toppled to the ground as she grabbed the yoga trainer next. Her eyes turned black. He opened his mouth to scream, but she squelched it by tightening her grip on his neck. "All you new agey trainers are so alike," she scoffed. "So weak and pathetic." Her fist wound back for a killing punch.

Sam chugged the Rubik's cube at her head before tackling her.

They fell with a grunt, but the redhead easily pinned him, slamming her fist down on the Rubik's cube. It shattered instantly.

"You're next," she promised menacingly, then tossed Sam up against the wall. The impact was so strong that chunks of plaster fell down to the floor with him. He groaned, his head spinning, but still managed to lurch up to his knees. So the soul was a crazy-strong trainer killer, and he no longer had a vessel to catch her with. Great. Just great.

The yoga trainer, a wheezing and weeping version of himself, cried out as the redhead neared him. Cindy swooped in front of her. Arms outstretched, the heavenly white aura blasted from her, and the soul quickly became transfixed. Taking advantage of her trance, Cindy snapped at the trainer, "Go."

He did, albeit jerkily, the door banging shut behind him.

Dashing forward, Sam grabbed Cindy's arm, then released her just as quickly; her aura had burned him, even if it did leave no scars. He snagged her attention nevertheless. "I can't let you take her…."

"Why not?" Cindy asked. "She doesn't deserve to go to hell."

"Are you kidding me? She just tried to kill that guy!"

"And succeeded to do so for many others," Cindy agreed. "That still doesn't mean she deserves to go down there."

"But she's a _murderer_." Sam glanced back and forth between her and the soul, settling his gaze on the latter when Cindy's aura became too intense. It was unnerving to see the soul so immobile with awe.

"She wasn't always," Cindy said. "Like everyone, she had a normal life once, people who loved her, and who she loved in return. Is it fair that she should be condemned to an eternity in hell for some mistakes she made?"

"Well, when those mistakes involve murder…," Sam mumbled.

Her neutral expression slouched into a frown. "How would you feel if someone you loved, someone good, did something to earn damnation? Could you bear the thought of them being tortured for the rest of their undying days for that one mistake?"

Images of his friends and family flashed across his mind. "Well, no, but…"

"It's not fair," Cindy cut off. "The guys who determine whether a soul goes to hell or not are so narrow-minded! Bad things this, bad things that. They hardly ever consider the good things, look to see if they outweigh the bad ones. Even then, everyone still has _some_ good in them, so hell should be a punishment for no one. Murderer or not, this soul, _every_ soul, deserves --"

"Redemption," Sam murmured.

Cindy did a double take, then smirked. "Okay, sure. We can call it that."

Sam hesitated. Something about this still didn't feel right, but Cindy's words resonated with him. Why _should_ those souls go to hell? Yeah, they were evil, but if there was a chance that they could repent for their sins, that they could be redeemed…

Cindy grinned. "I knew you'd see things my way eventually."

Sam dared to meet her gaze despite the intense aura. "I don't…"

"You do." Her grin eased into a slyer smile as she turned toward the soul. She was still transfixed, but blinking profusely, her fists twitching; she'd probably break out of the trance soon. "But even if you don't, what are you going to do? You no longer have a vessel."

_True, _he thought, glancing at the broken pieces of the Rubik's cube scattered on the floor. He didn't answer her.

"So?" Cindy snapped. "Are you just going to stand here and gawk, or are you going to let me take care of the soul?"

Still silent, Sam turned for the door. Hopefully, because of the broken vessel, the Devil wouldn't get on his case about abandoning the soul -- if only that was the main reason for him leaving.

_Redemption_. Sam shook his head. All this time, he thought he was doing good by capturing these souls, even if it was for the Devil. Knowing that they could be saved pained him more than he expected.

Grasping the doorknob, Sam looked back once more at Cindy and the soul. Like before, she grasped her shoulders, causing her aura to enfold her. Slowly, they began to vanish -- but not before talons pierced from Cindy's hands and into the soul. The soul writhed, her awe dissolving into a grimace as her body faded against Cindy's own.

Shock grappled Sam. Cindy wasn't saving this soul -- she was _absorbing_ her.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam shot himself forward and tried to tear the soul out from Cindy's talons, but the blinding aura lashed at him, slamming him back. Just as they were about to vanish completely, Sam snatched up one of the rolled-up yoga mats and hurled it at them. It hit Cindy's head and made her and the soul topple over. While Cindy's aura had vanished, her talons hadn't, which Sam learned far too well when she leapt up and slashed them at him. He ducked, reeling back, his mind even more unwieldy than his clumsy footing. "You're an escaped soul!"

"Not escaped." Cindy lunged at him again. "Just a soul."

Sam narrowly avoided another slashing, but only because he had tripped over some more rolled-up yoga mats and fell straight on his spine. He groaned.

Cindy wrenched him back up by the shirt collar. "You haven't done anything bad that I know of," she said, talons raised, "but exceptions can be ma--oomph!"

The soul Cindy had tried to absorb recuperated from the aura-induced paralysis just enough to sprint for the door -- she just hadn't recuperated enough to do so without knocking into them in the process. Cindy relinquished Sam freely, darting after her -- then tripped on the yoga mats, just like he had, collapsing with a full-frontal smash. By the time she lurched up again, the soul was gone.

"Damn it!" Cindy hissed. Her talons, Sam noticed, had retracted, but not her glare. She whirled toward him, her tone accusing. "I almost had her!"

Sam backed away slowly, as a prey would from a predator. He needed to get away from her, but curiosity kept him from concentrating fully on that. "I thought you said all souls deserve to go to heaven, so why --"

Cindy's bitter laugh cut him off. "I said no soul deserves to go to hell; I never said anything about them deserving to go heaven."

"So you just, what? Hypnotize them with your aura thing and then consume them? What good does that do?"

"Lots." Cindy slammed both of her palms against the wall, trapping Sam between them. She did little else to restrain him, but he was still cautious; he didn't want to risk triggering one of her freaky powers. "The things those souls have done -- that they keep doing -- are unforgivable. But just because they don't deserve eternal peace doesn't mean they deserve eternal damnation."

"Because they still have good in them."

"Somewhat, yes."

Sam scoffed, "So absorbing them into you is the better alternative?"

Her features darkened at his tone, but seemed to brighten as she answered, "Of course it is! When I absorb them, they become a part of me, where it's painless, _empty_. They no longer have to bear the tortures of hell, even though they're denied the pleasures of heaven. Like limbo."

"Limbo. _Riiight_." Sam stiffened, watching her. She had her head tilted skyward now, eyes glassy, as if lost in thought. Maybe, if he knocked her arms away, he could run off before --

Oh, screw thinking it out. Sam shoved her back and ran.

A surge of water smashed into him, knocking him down just as he reached for the door. He lurched back up, almost slipping, shock overtaking him. Cindy had used the same power the previous soul he'd been after had, back when he first ran into her. Apparently, she could absorb a lot more things than just souls. Great. Just what he wanted to deal with…

Cindy seized his throat, her hands fanning out with talons once more. "Once you see hell's not all it's cracked up to be, feel free to escape and find me; I might be willing to free you from the torment."

Something glittered in the puddle beneath them. A cross -- _Cindy's_ cross, its chain lying limply over it. It must have fallen out of his pocket. He'd almost forgotten how the Devil had given it back to him…

…to give it back to Cindy.

Cindy saw it a split-second after him, her grip slackening. Sam tore free from her and snatched it up before she could. He wrapped the chain around her neck so fast that she gagged, a reaction that only seemed to become more unruly once he fastened the clasp. Staggering back, he watched Cindy collapse to her knees and claw at the necklace. The silver illuminated, scorching her -- absorbing her. When the cross plopped back down to the floor, Sam was uncertain whether it had done what he thought it did, or if Cindy had simply used one of her freaky powers to escape.

Taking a tentative step forward, Sam picked up the necklace and fingered the cross pendant. It felt oddly warm in his hands.

Behind him, someone was clapping.


	10. Chapter 10

"Good job, Sammy!" the Devil complimented, his smirk evident in every syllable he spoke, every applaud he clapped. Sam stayed where he was, his gaze fixed on the necklace, as the Devil circled around to take it from him. Sam jerked his hand away before he could.

"Mind explaining all of this -- _any_ of this?"

The Devil's expression slipped into one that would've appeared sympathetic had it not been so cocky. "Oh, I guess I should. I would've told you the details sooner, but given the circumstances --"

"What circumstances? The kind where you conveniently don't tell me about an escaped soul so you can jerk me around?"

The Devil chuckled. "I wasn't jerking you around, Sam -- not this time."

"Then what --"

"Cindy wasn't an escaped soul," he cut in flatly. "Not technically."

Sam watched as the Devil pulled out an old newspaper from his suit. When he unfolded it, the main article stunned him -- or, more accurately, the picture adjoining it did, since he was used to the Devil showing him headlines about murder. "That's Cindy!" he said, his voice tinged with confusion. Obviously, Cindy had to have died in order to be a capture-able soul in the first place, but she looked so young in that grainy pic -- twelve, maybe thirteen at the most. She wore the same cross Sam now held in his hand.

"Her twin, actually," the Devil corrected. "Cops caught their dad before he could kill her as well, although it was too late to save her from the other things he'd done." He grinned, lethally toothy. "Good thing, too. It would've been a shame for the world to miss out on the effects he had on her."

Sam turned away. "I don't want to hear this."

"But I haven't even told you the best part!" The Devil waited, and when Sam neither relented nor protested, continued, "Cindy became…mentally disturbed. Not even years of therapy could stop her from wanting vengeance, even if none of the bad guys were _her_ bad guy. She would've gotten away with the murders, too, had she not offed herself in the end. Too much guilt over what she'd done, or some stupid emotion like that."

"So she's an escaped soul." Sam didn't understand why the Devil would suggest otherwise.

"No, Sammy," the Devil said. "Cindy was never in my possession. Because of her mental state, she couldn't be held fully accountable for her sins, so they assigned her to limbo."

"They?"

The Devil glanced skyward.

"Oh," Sam mumbled. "So, she's an escaped soul, but from limbo, not hell."

"It's not quite escaping when the Higher Ups let you go freely."

Sam frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"No one sent to limbo stays in limbo; they're eventually sent to heaven or hell. In death, Cindy was freed from the mental state that ailed her, so they sent her to Earth to study her actions, to see if she could be redeemed."

"But she started consuming escaped souls instead."

The Devil reflected the frown Sam was still sporting. "Foolish girl had it in her head that sinners didn't deserve to be tormented. She still loved her dad a little, despite everything he'd done. She didn't want them to meet the same fate as him. Can you imagine that?"

Sam said nothing.

The Devil shrugged. "No matter. What she did was still sinful, but you didn't get in her way _too _much, so they can't accuse me of having any influence on her actions."

"That's why you wanted me to avoid her?"

"Well, you are _my_ property. It would be just as unfair to have one of His people influencing her as well."

Sam held up the necklace, remembering how adamant Cindy was to get it back. "And the importance of this?"

"None, really -- not until I had my minions turn it into a proper vessel. Cindy was just really attached to it after stealing it off her sister's body." He plucked the necklace free from Sam's hand, admiring it. "Mine, now."

"So I'm guessing they already made their decision about her?" Sam asked, surprised at how queasy he felt at that thought.

The Devil grew stern. "She was a sinner, Sam. Don't start moralizing over whether she truly deserves this fate."

"But with what happened to her…can she really be at fault for her actions if outside factors push her over the edge?"

"Yes. Yes she can."

"But…everyone was good once…"

"Please. With that logic, everyone should go to heaven, including Hitler. Do you want Hitler to go to heaven, Sam?"

"Well, no…"

"Good." The Devil nudged him, beaming another one of his trademark grins. "You should feel proud. I usually have more experienced reapers deal with assignments like this. In fact, I think I'll have you take the rest of the day off. That other soul can wait until tomorrow to be caught."

"Gee, thanks." Sam stomped off, not bothering to glance back at the Devil; he probably wouldn't have been standing there anymore had he done so, anyway. He knew, ultimately, that he'd done the right thing by capturing Cindy's soul; he just wished that it felt like he had.


End file.
